


The List Begins

by coffeegrl



Series: Bucky's Lists [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Divergent Timelines, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22091098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeegrl/pseuds/coffeegrl
Summary: Steve finds Bucky living homeless on the streets of Brooklyn after the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. This is only the beginning of Bucky finding his way back to himself.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Series: Bucky's Lists [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590097
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	The List Begins

**Author's Note:**

> I had hesitated in writing any Bucky stories because there is already so much out there. I first want to apologize if this is too similar to writings by another author. I have not been able to read nearly everything out there, so if it looks like I have stolen the idea from anyone, I apologize and please let me know. 
> 
> As far as the timeline and characters go.....everything that happened in the MCU movies up to and including CA:TWS holds true. I have chosen to diverge from there. In this story, Bucky is still in the US and living homeless in Brooklyn when Steve finally tracks him down.

Bucky looked around his bedroom. He had been living here with Steve for one week now. He still couldn’t believe this space was his. SHIELD was providing this apartment to Steve and Bucky as part of Steve’s “benefits package” (Bucky still hadn’t completely grasped what that was) and as compensation to Bucky for treating him like a villain and fugitive when he had been the victim of Hydra and their brainwashing all along.

After Bucky had escaped Hydra, he’d been on the run for months. When Steve finally found him, he had been sleeping on the streets of Brooklyn, eating out of trash cans, and wearing clothes that were much too thin and ragged for the harsh January weather. 

Steve had approached Bucky like you would approach a dog that had been beaten. Bucky’s knees were drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, a blank and hollow look in his eyes. God, those eyes. It had broken Steve’s heart to see him so sad, so lonely, so broken, and with no one to care for him. Steve had wanted to wrap Bucky in a blanket, take him somewhere safe and warm, feed him nutritious food, and just protect him from everything bad in the world.

When Steve spoke to Bucky and Bucky didn’t answer the sadness in Steve’s eyes was evident. The worst part, for Bucky at least, was that he knew his silence was hurting Steve, but he didn’t trust himself to say anything. Not yet anyway. Steve had just sighed, stood up from his crouched position, and told Bucky that he would be back tomorrow with some food for him. If Bucky was OK with that, he would come back to this spot tomorrow evening.

Bucky wasn’t sure Steve would return but he did. Steve slowly approached Bucky, watching for any signs that Bucky was going to run or attack. He placed a ham and cheese sandwich, small bag of chips, and bottle of water next to Bucky. “That’s for you,” Steve had said. “It’s not much, but the deli I got it from is….it’s run by the same family who owned the bakery that was only a block from our place. Of course, the ones who run the deli weren’t alive when we would go to the bakery. But their bread is still really good.”

Bucky had unwrapped the sandwich and taken a small bite. “Do you like it?” Steve took the answer to be yes when Bucky took another bite before opening the bag of chips. Steve had agonized over which flavor of chips to get for Bucky, finally just settling on plain. He figured Hydra hadn’t introduced him to the wild world of flavors such as BBQ, salt & vinegar, or jalapeno. “I’ll come back tomorrow with another sandwich,” Steve said before leaving Bucky to finish his food.

The next day, Steve brought Bucky a tuna fish sandwich, apple, and a bottle of unsweet tea. The third day, it was turkey and swiss, baby carrots, and a Gatorade. He also brought him a blanket. The fourth day was a bowl of chicken noodle soup with crackers, water, and a sock cap. The fifth day was roast beef, an orange, coffee, and a pillow. When he came back on the sixth day, he noticed that the orange looked like, well, it looked like it had gone through battle. For some reason Bucky hadn’t been able to get it peeled completely. When Steve set the food down next to him, Bucky picked up the orange, held it up to Steve and uttered one word. “Help?”

Steve took the orange from Bucky and said, “Of course. I’ll help you whenever you want me to.” He had then peeled the orange and broken it open, allowing Bucky to separate the sections and pop them into his mouth. 

Things continued like this for another two weeks as January rolled into February, bringing with it five straight days of cold rain, then snow, then ice, then rain, then more ice. Steve had begun talking to Bucky about his current life. He was still working for SHIELD and was still an Avenger. He told him about his little apartment in Brooklyn, not far from where they had lived before…..well, before. The area was a lot nicer now. Something about the mayor “cleaning up crime” and providing a “good neighborhood for all of New York’s citizens.” He talked about the movies he had watched and the books he had read. Bucky’s eyes had lit up at the mention of the word ‘books.’ 

“Of course!” Steve had thought to himself. How had he forgotten how much Bucky had loved to read? So many people would meet Bucky and would dismiss him as just another pretty-boy with not much between his ears. He hadn’t gone to college but, then again, it was the 1930s. A lot of people hadn’t gone to college who should have but couldn’t because, well, it was the 1930s. But Bucky had loved science and technology, had read everything by HG Wells, and had seriously thought that flying cars would someday be an every-day item for people. He had also loved The Hobbit, which had been published in 1937. But the Lord of the Rings trilogy hadn’t come out until both he and Bucky had been declared legally dead for a decade.

The next evening, Steve brought Bucky another ham and cheese (it seemed to be his favorite) and a copy of ‘The Fellowship of the Ring.’ Bucky hadn’t said another word to Steve after his one utterance of ‘help’ with the orange almost a month ago. When Steve handed him the book, Bucky looked up at him and said, “Thank you.” It broke Steve’s heart.

Somehow, Bucky had managed to read the whole book in one day, and when Steve went back to Bucky the next evening, he was shocked to find Bucky just sitting there, clutching the book to him. 

“What’s wrong Buck?” Steve asked. 

Bucky looked at him. “Sam and Frodo. They are…..” And there, for the first time, was a real hint of the old Bucky in his eyes. And the old Bucky, he remembered who Steve was, really remembered him, for the first time. “Sam and Frodo are like Steve and Bucky. With each other until the end of the line.”

Steve reached out and gently put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky tensed but didn’t pull away. “Yeah. Yeah they kind of are, aren’t they? You know, there are two more books after that one. Would you like to read them? I own copies of them at home.”

“Home,” Bucky said. Not a question, but a single one-word response. 

Two weeks into Steve bringing Bucky food and other items, he had started telling Bucky at the end of every ‘visit’ (for lack of a better word to call their times together) that he could come home with him. Have a hot bath or shower. Shave. Brush his teeth. (The mouthwash he had brought Bucky could only do so much and Bucky had originally tried to drink it, thinking it was something like soda or Gatorade.) He didn’t have to stay if he didn’t want to. But he was welcome at his home anytime. So when Bucky said, “Home,” Steve tried not to get his hopes up.

“Yeah Buck. At home. I have lots of books there. Movies too. A warm bed. Food in the fridge. Anything you want.”

“Chocolate?” Bucky asked. Steve chuckled. Of course, why hadn’t he brought Bucky some chocolate? The man loved the stuff. And now, there were so many more chocolate items available than in the 1930s. 

“Tell you what Bucky. I’ll put together a little box for you. A few books, some chocolate, some hygiene items. It can be your box of stuff and anytime you want to come to my place for a little while, it will be waiting for you. OK?”

Bucky nodded but made no indication that he was going to stand up and follow Steve home. Steve sighed. He had tried at least.

That night he was woken from a deep sleep by a knocking on the door. He looked at his phone and the time said 2:15 a.m. He stumbled to the door, looked through the peephole and when he saw Bucky on the other side, couldn’t get the door unlocked fast enough. 

Steve didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to scare Bucky so he simply stepped aside and allowed Bucky to enter. Bucky’s eyes scanned the room.

“It’s OK. You’re safe here,” Steve said. 

“Can I….can I sleep?” Bucky asked. Bucky had looked bad out on the streets but now, in this clean apartment, Bucky looked even worse. Steve figured Bucky probably didn’t sleep much out there, for a wide variety of reasons. 

“Of course,” Steve said. “I only have the one bedroom, but you can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch….” Steve trailed off as he saw Bucky lying down on the floor next to the coffee table. 

“Here is fine,” Bucky said, closing his eyes. He was out in less than 60 seconds. 

The next day, Steve managed to convince Bucky to take a bath and wash his hair. The next day, he saw Bucky pulling the electric beard trimmer out of his cardboard box and staring at it. Of course he wouldn’t know how to use it. Steve showed him how it worked and most of Bucky’s beard came off, leaving just some scruff. 

Not every day held progress though. About a week into Bucky staying with Steve, Bucky accidentally dropped a bowl that was filled with vegetable soup, breaking the bowl and getting soup everywhere. He ran out of the apartment before Steve had a chance to get mad and punish him. When he came back to the apartment the next day, the mess had been cleaned up and Steve didn’t even mention it. 

Winter rolled into spring which rolled into summer. Bucky looked healthier than he had in a long time and every so often, he allowed himself a small smile…at something Steve said, at something in a book, at something on the TV. 

Steve took him to a therapist Sam had recommended. She worked with soldiers dealing with PTSD and had been made aware of Bucky’s “special situation.” Bucky didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t the kind middle-aged woman whose office always smelled a little like vanilla, who kept a bowl of Hershey’s Miniatures on her desk and allowed Bucky to have TWO after each one hour session, who never pressured him to speak. By the time July arrived, he had spoken at only about half of his sessions but Mary, the therapist, didn’t seem to mind. She assured Steve that the therapy sessions were beneficial, even when Bucky said nothing. 

“He has very expressive eyes,” she had said to Steve one time. “I’ve learned more about him from his eyes than anything he’s said.”

On August 1, Steve and Bucky moved into their new two-bed, two-bath apartment in Brooklyn, courtesy of SHIELD. It was on the sixth floor of a walk-up, but that was fine. Steve had gotten the larger bedroom with the attached bathroom, but Bucky didn’t mind. His bedroom had a full-size bed, small closet, chest of drawers, and an antique desk from the late 1800s. One thing he had learned in the past six months was that people today liked having the newest of anything. Bucky liked knowing that something that was his was also older than him.

He liked this apartment. There was a bookstore and coffee shop at the end of the block. When he looked out his window, he saw a small park. The apartment came with a small washer and dryer. (The first time Steve had done laundry in a frontload washer with a plastic window in the front, Bucky had literally sat on the floor and watched the clothes get spun and tossed around.) There was a pizza place only 5 minutes from here, so they could get pizza delivered quickly to their door. (Food delivered right to your door! Bucky thought with amazement the first time Steve had ordered pizza for them.) There was a young married couple with two kids who lived down the hall. He didn’t know why, but he liked hearing the children laughing. He liked that they sounded happy. 

But most of all, he liked that Steve was right across the hall. Their friendship still wasn’t what it was like before WW2, Hydra, and SHIELD. But they were working on it. SHIELD had offered to get them each a place of their own. Without even thinking about it, they had said ‘no’ simultaneously. Too many things had kept them apart for too long. They wanted their friendship back. Steve wanted his Bucky back and Bucky wanted to be, well, BUCKY again. 

Bucky looked around his room, then picked up a pen. Mary had suggested that he keep a list and call it his “Things Bucky Likes” list. With all of the bad that had been in his life, including the bad before WW2 but especially after becoming The Winter Soldier, Mary thought it would be a good idea if Bucky had a tangible way to remind himself that there were good things in the world. There were things that could make Bucky smile and bring him a little happiness. He didn’t have to elaborate on them. Just one or two words would suffice.

He put the pen to a new leather journal he had bought just for this, wrote at the top THINGS BUCKY LIKES, took a breath, wrote the number one (1.) then carefully wrote “this apartment.” And then he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have enjoyed! Constructive criticism and comments are always welcome. If there is interest, I am thinking of making this into a series with different works titled "Things Bucky Likes" "Things Bucky Definitely Does NOT Like" "Things Bucky Misses" and any others that come to mind. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
